Unsheathed
by babybuonarroti
Summary: "Never again will I wear a demon's face, nor will I corrupt under Lucifer. My brethren share nothing but hatred for my name, and so I shall share the same for their own." Wings came to rest comfortably tucked against fleshly body. "Though these wings are my pride and I refuse to clip them." Banished Demon!Jellal/Angel!Erza AU. Jerza. Rating subject to change.
1. A STRETCH OF WINGS

CHAPTER ONE: A STRETCH OF WINGS

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Steel footing repetitively struck the uneven pathway paved with misshapen cobblestone and cement, a sound comparable to a ringing bell being that which cut the open air. Gentle breeze could not cradle flesh beneath layers of purchased cloth—perhaps one may consider that to be fortunate, for the skin may shriek when confronted with cool after a thousand years' worth of damage dealt by flame. First footfall brought upon him a mint-like atmosphere in the sense that the cold would chill him to his very bones, permeating and burning in a way which was entirely too contradictory.

Intuition would tell of a divine presence, though intuition had picked up a sort of redundancy in recent reports. The halo above his head was certainly not his own, and yet it hovered so close in proximity that one might be fooled at first glance. The wings at his back altered his shadow, contrasting the overwhelming demonic presence he held so drastically—so radically. Voicing his knowledge of her presence would only lead to confrontation, and confrontation would undoubtedly place his coordinates on many a map he wished to avoid. For miles on end, he held his tongue—folded ink-dripping wings and hid telling tail.

She was nothing if not tenacious, he would allot her that. His estimation of her tire lay on the path many miles ago—he traded it for patience. The game of wait was an exercise of one of many talents held by the beast. It was a talent she was blissfully unaware of at the beginning of their journey, for which he almost felt pity. If only a disclaimer lay around his neck, warning others that nearly all presumptions made would be proven false—for a demon he was, but a _demon_ he was not.

Sometime soon the cobblestone would loosen and the sand beneath would shift. The sun had long since retired, allowing him to walk comfortably through this town without bearing facial coverings. The outskirts were quickly approaching, leaving him to roam desert sands to his mind's content—the presence of the heart would remain a mystery. The Holy presence remained unable to decipher his motive, for had she known prior to the revelation, she certainly would have halted his progress many miles ago.

Loose sands ground against steel armor, replacing the earlier thudding with the sound of wearing metal. Though the body tired from excessive travel, the mind was racing. The passing of another few miles led him to his destination—complete desolation. Golden sands a few shades darker than those of time stretched for miles on end without the presence of a human soul, and though the temperatures had dropped a chilling twenty degrees, the ability to relax his muscles was unearthly.

"Speak Holy One, I have an eternity to listen." Thunderous voice, carrying power he could no longer conceal.

"I have no words for you, _Beast_. I have only my blade." Venomous _!_ —such anger was hardly characteristic of pure beings. Absolutely volatile, if he must choose to describe it.

"And your blade will not get you any farther this time than it did the last, surely you are capable of seeing that. I do not wish to shed blood—not mine, nor yours, nor that of humankind." His words were meaningless to her, that much he knew, but perhaps his actions could reflect his true intentions should she care enough to analyze them.

"Lies! Your kind does not dwell in this realm if not to shed blood, and to corrupt. You take me for a fool, demon?"

" _I am not my kind_." Perhaps his statement had been placed a bit forcefully, a bit too bitterly, though the expression of fury upon the face of the angel lifted to reveal surprise. "I was forced from my home after a thousand years of life on the basis of accusation and banished to these lands. I wish for no part in this battle of light and dark, I wish no quarrel with the lives of humans. The grey is where I have chosen to dwell until my unavoidable execution."

"And I'm supposed to simply believe— "

"Believe what you wish, Angel. Simply know that you cannot, and will not, defeat me. The one to have my head will be no less than Lucifer, granted I do not reach his throat first." As calm and melodic a tone as it ever was, as if he were reporting the weather.

"You wish to kill Lucifer? Many a mighty angel have gone on that mission to never return, what makes you believe that you are worthy of such a task?" He could easily place her intrigue, though she did little to cover her emotions, her intentions. Such was typical of angelic beings, their ability to embody pride and leave all to be seen without sheath, and this one in particular absolutely swelled.

"May I ask if you've seen Him for what he truly is?"

She would nod. "He looks no different than I."

"Precisely. Angelic power was not meant to combat angelic power—That of a demon, though, exists only for the purpose of corrupting that power, eating through its very core as it does with all life. May I ask if you've seen demons outside of the human realm?" A hand rose to capture the point of his hood, dragging it back to reveal the fleshly face of his Earthen form—though be it a face branded by torturers in a past life.

"I've had no reason to travel beyond the limits of Heaven and Earth." Her justification sounded even more hollow when she spoke aloud. "I am, however, aware that the form of a demon cannot truly be displayed on Earth, for the hallowed ground reduces your powers greatly."

"Just as an angel weakens in Hell, yes, that is correct." He confirmed. "However, the ability to stretch one's wings lays in the power of the beholder. I will not fault you for the misinformation, as members of the cabinet hardly touch the surface."

The robe he so treasured for its ability to retain warmth and conceal his figure slid from his shoulders and pooled at his wrists, leaving him to gently shake it from himself so that it would rest at his feet. The same fate became of molded steel chest plate and sewn cloth top. Trained amber would never blink, muscles pulled taut to the point of snapping with the force of anticipation. Her blood chilled. Words seemed to catch in her throat, quickly making that place their grave as they abandoned all hope of escape.

The act of stretching his wings after such a period of concealing them was a syrupy pain, the sort of pain where the lines blurred and pleasure met the equation. The slow emergence of ink-dripping masses took her breath in the least pleasant of ways, as if she'd been hung right then and there. The skin split and pitch ink spilled, rolling down porcelain skin as shoulders coiled inward to assist the birth of demonic presence. What first appeared as duel incisions soon stretched to become two craterous rifts down the length of the back, parting the flesh's sea so that the feather's should emerge without hindrance.

Wings unseen by this naked Earth stretched to their fullest extent with a gust, blowing scarlet strands from glowing exterior without breath of threat. Her face remained as stone, expression carved from the finest marble. Dread overwhelmed all other sense, drowning out all traces of purity almost violently, so that she might have taken a knee if not for her equally impressive reserves of pride, power, and persistence. Few others would mimic her actions.

"These wings are half of my image, I left the rest in Hell. Never again will I wear a demon's face, nor will I corrupt in Lucifer's name. My brethren share nothing but hatred for my name, and so I shall share the same for Their own." His wings came to rest comfortably tucked against fleshly body. "Though these wings are my pride and I refuse to clip them."

"You are aware that your destiny is a suicide." No hint of question resided in her voice, the embedded melody long forgone in favor of a much simpler pattern—distance. "You seek revenge."

"Name it what you wish, it makes no difference to me. I am as good as dead as it currently stands, dead man's prayer is still meaningful, yes?"

"Is that meant to be a joke?" She would advance a step, though piercing gaze would cause her halt. "I accept no prayer from my Lord's one true opposition."

"And yet I was not met here with a thousand of The Lord's soldiers. Your confidence is overwhelming still—Either that, or some part of you believes some part of I. I'm inclined to believe the former." He would not dub her less than overwhelmingly adept. Her attitude was quite intriguing.

"Look at this! The demon exiled for fraternizing with humans is now socializing with one of God's own—You are _some_ kind of trip." Amusement lay thick over what should have simply been expressed as hostility. Neither party present before his arrival turned to acknowledge his presence. He hadn't masked it, after all.

"The quarrel you seek will end unfavorably, daemon." What should have relayed simple indifference instead expressed exhaustion. No willingness to fight was present. "Step wisely."

"Fullbuster." She would address him directly, causing the demon to raise a brow. Angels thought daemons beneath them, thought them unnatural forces—vigilantes at best, did they not? To address one so casually as if an old comrade was quite the interesting choice. "Why have you come? I assured your services would not be needed. And if you've come—"

"Dragneel isn't far behind, don't worry." He sighed. "Couldn't beat him off your trail, I mostly came to warn you, Erza… But I couldn't pass up the chance to throw a dart at the big guy." A thumb jabbed in the demon's direction lightened the mood several shades. "Gray Fullbuster, it's a pleasure to meet you, Jellal."

The vigilante would step to offer a hand in greeting, something Jellal had observed from human interaction during his travels. After a brief moment of simply staring at the proffered appendage, he mirrored the other's movement with bridled strength, though it may have appeared otherwise. "Surely." A bit dry, though civil all the same. "You possess a marvelous power."

"Are you implying that I am so transparent?" He would smirk nonetheless, a fraction of his lip disappearing into the pitch discoloration of his skin as he tightened his grip on the other's hand and allowing tendrils of ice to climb to the demon's wrist. "I tried to warm them in my pockets, but I guess I can't fool the highly evolved."

Jellal retracted his hand to inspect the frosted substance upon his skin, controlling his expression so that his discomfort would remain tightly sealed. The ice soon came to melt, tiny rivulets of chilled water rolling down his wrist and fingers. "Ice magic."

"Something like that." He shrugged. "Come now, don't hold all of your cards so close to your chest."

"Gray." Erza warned, her tone close to a growl as she finally took her eyes off of the demon and glued them to her assumed comrade.

"What? You're not curious to see if the legends hold any truth at all?" While he wasn't exactly famous for being an antagonist, an opportunity to witness something so allegedly profound wasn't something he would waste. "Besides, even if I can't get it out of him, we both know someone who will."

Erza bared her teeth. "Fool." A tone which might bite through steel if presented the chance. "Do you wish to die?"

"My apologies for interrupting, but I think you will find that I'm not so easily provoked." Jellal stated, expressionless. "That said, I would advise against any further attempt." A hollow threat. Utilizing his abilities would only draw Lucifer's forces to him at a far accelerated rate. Expressing that much, however, was far from his intention.

Three pillars stood, each monument inscribed with its own sealed intent; each monument a fine representation of its faction's strength. Each party remained unsure of the other's true purpose, leaving uncertainty to consume air already thick with tension. The moment's silence, albeit fleeting, allowed keen ears to detect a cut in the air. A winged creature was approaching—and fast. For the first time since his abrupt halt, Jellal shifted his position to accommodate the newcomer.

"A demon?" Voice bordering a hiss, an involuntary reaction as a result of his nature. Even still, the break in composure appeared to be quite uncharacteristic. Hands poised at the flank, fingers separated every so slightly in preparation to call upon veiled force.

The holy presence immediately spotted the shift in demeanor, eyes refusing to leave her decided target. Gray's gaze was also fixated on the damned, though dark eyes had locked onto the faint but present glow spreading from palms to engulf each lithe finger. He, too, altered his stance. The flat of his fist came to rest within his palm, ready to defend himself and his ally in a moment's notice. If the legends were anywhere near the truth, and the overbearing presence that seemed to grow without relent gave him reason to think that they were, it would be all he could do to escape.

"I wouldn't count on it." Gray advised. He knew the coming being far too well.

The following moments were an anxious silence, awaiting the arrival of the detected presence. As the creature grew nearer, Jellal appeared to calm considerably. Incandescent hands returned to their usual fleshly appearance, spine straightening to its previous position. "Not a demon, but certainly no angel either."

"Eh? Who are you calling a demon?" The voice would sound, its beholder coming into view as he breached the clouds overhead.

The newly introduced was falling—no, hurling himself—towards the Earth at an alarming rate. Sleek wings folded against the body as if they were a protective casing, though the objective was to be aerodynamic. Wings deployed few feet from the ground, gracing all present with a slight gust of wind. The newcomer dropped to his feet into shifty sands, struggling a bit to find his balance in a display which contradicted his smooth entrance.

Wings unlike those Jellal had ever seen in person—wings of a creature of lore. Though now they rested comfortably at his back, the others had witnessed their great expanse upon deployment before striking the ground. Visible expanse of jointed, curving bones protruded from the creature's shoulder blades, ending in multiple fine points. Those bones and the expanse between appeared to be wrapped in a thick, scaled flesh.

"Dracon." The demon muttered, eyes lighting in intrigue as he lapped up every detail of the image bestowed to him.

The other belted a laugh which only seemed to further clash with the pre-established atmosphere. "You're a pretty sharp guy!"

His grin made pointed fangs visible, not entirely unlike Jellal's own. The difference lay in their size; they seemed to be quite large compared to the rest of the teeth in their company. Just beneath salmon stained bangs, hardly visible scales decorated his temples. It would seem that they scaled his neck, shoulders, and parts of his forearms as well. Briefly, he pondered their strange appearance. It almost looked as if his skin itself was peeling, and one may be careless enough to assume so should they lack trained eye. Instead, hardened scales the same composition of thick outer flesh provided additional protection to select areas of his body.

"Natsu." Erza only seemed to grow less amused as time went on. Impressive, given the state of rage she'd been in since the beginning. "I told you not to come here."

"You're always hogging all the fun. It pisses me off!" He combated.

The demon present arched a brow. The matter of his life was a simple game? While he was impressed to see a living dracon after a millennium of their alleged disappearance, he was beginning to tire of the foolishness. He wished for peaceful seclusion and was graced with a hell-bent angel, an ice daemon, and this dracon who smelled strongly of ash. When would he reach the extent of his misfortune?

"If you wish to strike me, I invite you." His patience was wearing incredibly thin. "But I must warn you, I will be forced to make quick work of our skirmish."

"If you do not wish to be met with an army of your kind in addition to an army of mine, you will be doing exactly as I say." The blades of her voice pierced his feet, confining him to his place in the sand. Pots of honey and molten jade shifted to meet crystallized amber, and the threat in his eyes might have petrified anyone else where they stood.

"You dare attempt to command me?" He'd done his time in chains in a past life. He would not take so kindly to the thought of having his freedom revoked.

"I dare to bargain." She corrected. "Either you come with me, or you face all of your enemies at once. The choice is yours, demon."

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 **Guess who's back with a brand new, shiny toy. Tell me if you'd like more of this story. If the feedback is positive, I'll continue. I will say though, this story is my current obsession, so expect more. Jellal is also very near and dear to me, and this story is based off of an AU verse for my rp blog. Anyone who can guess my tumblr url (without looking in my bio) gets bonus points. Until next time, it's been a pleasure.**


	2. JOURNEY

CHAPTER TWO: JOURNEY

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Perhaps he should have simply killed them off before it had gotten to this point, though that could have lead to catastrophe just as easily. The threat of calling upon a thousand angels and demons alike was enough for him to come quietly, although begrudgingly. He very well may be walking with them to his own execution, and though he knew he could likely best them even with their current numbers, many more may meet his match. "You plot to have my head, no?"

"Revealing our plot so soon would be quite ignorant of us, no?" She would mimic his tone in a way that bordered mockery. "You underestimate our combined power to slaughter you where you stand, unholy presence."

' _For good reason_ ', he would combat mentally, though better judgement held his tongue where it stood. "Fair." He noted dryly.

"Somethin' tells me this guy isn't shaking in his boots, Erza." Gray remarked in amusement.

The grin which split upon the dracon's face made for an interesting pair with growled words, "Maybe we should give 'im a reason."

"Stand down, Dragneel." The Pure warned, gracing the other only with a glare.

Natsu raised her a pout, folding his arms over his chest with resemblance to an angered child. It would seem that he thrived off of fighting, given the way he so deliberated sought confrontation at every corner. Quite the reckless entity, that one. "Don't tell me you don't want to fight this guy."

Erza grit her teeth. "I have fought him."

' _No way_.' How quickly words could widen the eyes of the daemon, his lips parting slightly as the breath of surprise escaped him. ' _That means... Erza was unable to defeat him. Just how powerful is this guy?_ '

"Pardon my intrusion, might I ask where I'm being lead to?" The looming angelic presence was something he'd learned to grow accustomed to during his travels, but the addition of such rambunctious souls was an evident disturbance.

"Ain't ya' a bit polite for a demon?" The dracon accused, eyes narrowing as he inspected the other from crown to boot. "Ya' sure this is the guy, Erza?"

Her sigh was composed purely of exasperation. "Part of the Devil's power lays in His deceptively charming appearance."

 _Charming_ wasn't exactly the word that Jellal would use to describe his current demeanor. In fact, he was more abrasive than usual on account of being thoroughly annoyed. What luck! To be climbing further and further from the goal he so desired with each passing footstep. Luckily enough, the sun would be rising soon to add a bit of warmth to the parts of his skin which were still exposed to the wind beneath his thick coverings.

They had already passed through two cities on foot, the repetitive clinking of steel boots upon cobblestone filling much of the tense silence. Without a single answer to any of his admittedly repetitive questions, he felt as though he were a blind man without a cane. His gaze chose to fixate on the strands of scarlet decorating the length of his escort's back, swishing against Heaven forged armor with every step she took.

Scarlet. The very blood in his veins seemed to plummet in temperature, each individual hair on his arms rising. He halted, startling the two men at his back who immediately shifted into stances for combat. Erza pivoted, glowering at him over her shoulder with a demand of, "What is it?"

Jellal simply shook his head, regaining use of his legs once more to continue on their expedition. To feel as though one's soul was yanked from their body and shoved into that of another was quite the disorienting feeling, especially with screams of his own voice eliminating all else in his thought space. "My apologies."

One other time in his life had he experienced something similar; some torturous form of deja vu that he tried his damnedest to convince himself was simply that. His first journey to the surface realm, when his guide of sorts expressed to him that demons on Earth took the form of one of its beings, to an extent. She guided him to a reflective surface, where he observed himself as a human male. Sight of the gruesome brand staining his visage nearly brought him to his knees.

He had almost forgotten about the instance entirely.

Gray and Natsu weren't so keen on allowing his sudden hesitation to slip with such ease, the pair sharing a look briefly before returning their watch to their captive. Both parties held onto the many things they wished to express for fear of facing Erza's wrath. What exactly was he up to? Simply manipulating their nerves?

His guard returned to its rightful place as he allowed himself to dissolve into thought once more. Perhaps it would be best if he did not investigate every little trick his mind dared to play. After all, getting swept up in some illusionary tale fabricated by overthinking would be quite mindless of him given his current situation. There were more concerning things at hand.

The rest of their journey continued without incident, save for the stares allotted to the group's formation with Jellal, cloaked and mysterious as he looked, being escorted by the three others who appeared human enough at the moment. The townsfolk were few and far between as the sun rose, though with its rising, their numbers only increased. Many were reporting to work, opening their shops in the market, and running errands. Few were out for leisure.

He could hear their alarmed whispers, observed mothers wrap arms around their children in some vain excuse for protection. Mentally, he scoffed. If he wanted anything to do with their town, he'd have taken it by now. It would be a simple task, really. With luck, blood wouldn't even have to be shed. Yet he had no interest in human affairs, contrary to the smudge on his record.

He quickly deciphered from the arch overhead that he was being lead to a train station and briefly pondered exactly how far he'd lead them from their homes. Though he did suppose that it could not be held against him. He had no intention of being followed, after all. They did so of their own accord. One hand moved beneath his cloak to retrieve an object he hadn't required use of in quite some time.

"What do you think you're doing?" Gray demanded, taking a daring step to seize the demon's forearm, ice crawling around the hand used to capture him.

The disturbance was enough for Erza and Natsu to halt, the former pivoting to make her own demands, "What is it?!"

Blazing hazel met navy steel with remarkable intensity, causing the daemon to bare his teeth at the other. With a freeing tug of his arm, Jellal withdrew the object he had retrieved. It was a small leather drawstring bag filled with jewels. He proved the legitimacy of its contents by pouring a few into the palm of his hand and presenting it to the others.

"I am no heathen, I plan to pay my own way." He spat, growing irritable with their persistent need to criticize his every movement. "I am a man of my word, and I agreed to follow you without complication, did I not? If I wished to strike you by now, I would have. I simply refuse to be indebted to you."

He began to walk again, his shoulder knocking against Gray's as he passed with enough force to shove him backward. "And I'm not _overly_ fond of the cold."

Gray scoffed, lifting his hand to send a chilling surprise rushing up the other's spine as he began stalking towards the train station once more. Erza halted his progress however, her piercing gaze a silent warning as she captured his arm. He grit his teeth, but otherwise stood down. She nodded her appreciation.

"Where do ya' think you're going without us, eh?" Natsu trailed after the demon, capturing his cloak by its hood with a yank. The motion forced Jellal to stop short on account of sudden suffocation. "We're the ones leading the way, bastard!"

"I was under the impression that you would catch up. Am I assuming you to be too competent?" A hiss through grit teeth, voice barely escaping through parts in ivory.

" _There's_ the demon in ya'." The hybrid merely laughed, entirely too pleased to have gotten a rise out of the other. The untouchable facade was beginning to piss him off. "You're no better than the rest of your kind, quit acting like you're above it all."

This group truly did wish to force his hand. He was beginning to rethink the decision made many miles ago to refuse them what they wanted. "I am no better. By most parties, I am considered to be even lowlier." He took a step towards the other, who did not flinch. Jellal admired his resilience, for few could meet his gaze without turning tail. " _But I am not my kind_."

It would seem that during their short spat, the others had come to regain their rightful place in formation. "Enough wasting time. I wish to reach our destination at a decent hour. Understood?" Authority called all attention, each varied glance extended in her direction holding a unique emotion.

Their discourse would have to be entertained at a later date. Swallowing all comments he wished to make distinguishing himself from those who betrayed him, outcasted him, left a bitter residue to coat his throat and tongue. He would follow the good guy brigade without complaint. That much had been decided when she held a threat over his head that he could not afford to ignore, it would be in his best interest to sheath his temper once more.

However, he had yet to decipher exactly what the angel's motive was for taking him prisoner. The longer she held him alive in her presence, the more she put herself at risk of being accused of sympathy, or even fraternization. Unless her God himself caught wind of his former status in the Underworld and ordered his interrogation, she should have called for angelic reinforcements ages ago. Things were hardly adding up, and having relations with daemons and dracons made her suspect enough in his view. Color him curious—perhaps that curiosity was another variable driving him to feed into her game.

They halted briefly while Gray approached the ticket counter to purchase their fares, being sure to begrudgingly accept the demon's proffered compensation on his way. Acute hearing allowed him to pick up the name _Magnolia_ , a city he bypassed during his initial journey. There wasn't a clue to be had about the city's contents. He knew little of this realm to begin with, so that much came as no surprise to him. Even so, he struggled to make sense of why they would bother transporting him to the heart of human civilization. A bit risky, was it not? And what if he simply decided to reveal his true form in a heavily populated area to insight hysteria among the race they fought so desperately to hide from?

She gauged his own desperation to remain anonymous accurately, though. He would give her that. She had enough wit to determine that it was in his own best interest not to make a scene, lest he be discovered by all parties he wished to avoid. She was basing whatever plan she managed to concoct on their earlier conversations, which also meant she placed some degree of trust on his word. That fact alone might have incited a grin had he not been so thoroughly perturbed at the time.

Once the daemon returned with their boarding passes, they proceeded to venture down the flight of stairs which would lead them to the trains. There were a few loading on the right hand side, their faces declaring "Crocus" and "Old Fiore". The train leading to Crocus was particularly full, most of its riders being forced to stand and seize the overhead railing. The left side was absent of carriers. He assumed they would have to wait.

"Final boarding call! All passengers for Train CS1 to Crocus, please board now! Departure in 5 minutes." The voice blaring through the loudspeaker was that of a young woman, crisp and clear so that there was no confusion to be had. "Train CT1 to Clover Town set to arrive in 10 minutes. Train MA2 to Magnolia set to arrive in 30 minutes. We thank you all for choosing the original Fiorian Train Station for your travels!"

Thirty minutes to stand in uncomfortable silence with his captors and potential assailants seemed a notch below torturous. Being that the day was still quite young, there were considerably less humans in the station than there might have been had they come much later, or earlier for that matter. Most were leaving for work or school about thirty minutes prior to their arrival. There was at least a thin silver lining to be found.

He allowed his eyes to roam, taking in the sight of the large metal signs overhead which stated each train's path of travel. Train MA2, the one he assumed to be the train they would board, traveled from Crocus to their present location, Sasebo, and then to Hargeon with it's final stop in Magnolia. The sign beyond that displayed the approximate times of the trains' arrivals and departures throughout the day. Organized chaos was such a curious thing, was it not?

"Well, it was great to see you guys!" The sudden exclamation drew his thoughts from the hilarity that was a human's illusion of control, eyes sliding to the source. "Looks like the train's gonna be a while, I'll get a head start!"

"Natsu." Erza warned. "If you take flight during the day, someone will see you."

Gray laughed dryly. "Yeah _Ash Breath_ , looks like you can't avoid transportation this go around." His mockery was met with a sneer from the party in question. "Though you look disgusting when you're motion sick, so I guess we're all losers here."

"I'm the one who's getting sick to my stomach just looking at you now, _Ice Prick_."

Eyelids came to half mast as the weight of annoyance clung to his lashes. It seemed that the pair of creatures were simply out to create conflict of sorts, if not with him then with one another. Before he could even dream of blocking out their mindless banter, the holy presence put an end to it. It would seem that her followers, comrades, whatever they may be, were rather intimidated by her. After all, her power was nothing to sneeze at. She'd left quite a few painful marks on him in their previous run-ins.

The rest of their time was spent idle, Jellal's gaze roaming to accommodate the peculiarities of the world he was forced to dwell in. The train station wasn't particularly spectacular. Mostly made of cement, a few pieces of trash blowing around thanks to Train CS1's departure. There appeared to be some form of sustenance dispensary near a perforated metal bench. Loose jewel in exchange for cheap high calorie snacks and syrupy drinks, what an odd concept. While he understood the need for a quick and convenient method of replenishing one's energy, he failed to see how anything in those mechanical vendors would be helpful in a pinch. Perhaps it was more simple than that, a personification of gluttony?

The fact that he was dedicating entirely too much thought to the matter was proven by their train's arrival. Plucking at the simplest threads of human existence tended to have him unraveling the very fabric of their culture. While he would deny harboring any feelings toward the human race beyond that of complete indifference, he would admit that he found their mannerisms to be rather intriguing.

"Move, _heathen_." The shove to his back was a bit unnecessary, as he'd already begun moving of his own accord. Regardless, he grit his teeth and continued his advance towards the train's opening.

Just inside the door, they deposited their tickets. There was a counter which went up a single digit with each ticket to keep track of the number of riders per day. There were few passengers on board, not that it was particularly notable. He was lead through a few train cars to what seemed to be a more private area of the transport vehicle. Rows of seats turned to seating arrangements fashioned to resemble booths, the first of which it would appear that the demon wrangling brigade had claimed.

Without being given much choice, he took his seat next to the window. The one deemed Natsu was shoved in beside him by the angel, who took her seat directly across from him, and Gray next to her. After a brief assessment of his captor, his gaze settled on the world outside. It was ironic how he'd thought himself a caged bird upon his arrival to this realm, seeing how that cage only continued to shrink. As for the angel, her sights refused to leave his portrait.

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 **Thank you for the reviews on the previous chapter. I hope you will continue to leave feedback! This is just a filler, but the next chapter will be much more interesting.**

 **The particularity of the train station's description stems from my observations of the train stations in Sasebo, Japan.**


	3. ARRIVAL

**Chapter warnings: Gore, mutilation, torture. Proceed with caution or skip the chapter entirely if themes such as these can be harmful to you.**

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CHAPTER THREE: ARRIVAL

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Transit took approximately two hours, if he was required to guess. Time passed entirely different on Earth than it did in Hell, however, so that guess wouldn't exactly be deemed dependable. It was rather unremarkable—a presumed two hours of slight swaying, of staring without focus into a rain-spotted pane of glass which reflected his near transparent visage back at him. A presumed two hours of soft groaning and dry heaving from the passenger to his left, who sat with his head parked between his knees. Truly pitiful, not to mention vile.

Briefly, pots of bleeding jade and hickory had fallen upon that disgraceful marking. An ancient symbol declaring him a slave, or something similar. He had been warned against speculation, especially after his first encounter with the portrait of his Earthen form. He had been told that his reaction was far more _violent_ than anything his escort had ever witnessed before, reduced to his knees by some petty brand. However, some part of him yearned for knowledge, yearned to know _exactly_ why he would be stamped with such a demeaning feature.

* * *

Few times before had he ventured to the first circle of Hell. It simply could not hold his interest, as it was filled with the souls of sniveling humans who begged to know what they'd done to deserve their eternal suffering. They would cry out and grasp him as he passed, pleading for answers he did not possess. His escort, a member of the current cabinet, would order him not to grace the _lowly beings_ with his acknowledgement, to let them writhe in their indefinite pool of agony. That accumulating agony would soon swallow them whole, would rise above their heads so that they had no choice but to drink it in and choke on their own disgrace. Thus was the price of sin.

He would simply nod his indifference, having already made the mistake of sparing a glance towards one of the chained creatures once before. The sight was gruesome—a face so mutilated that he could not manage to pick out a single feature, though he presumed that the two blackened pits may have once contained eyes. Hands soaked with blood and body tissue of some form or other had clamped around his wrist in some erratic, blind grab, clenching so tight he was concerned for the ability of his bones to withstand the grasp. Warm amaranth smeared across ebony flesh, its stench amplified by proximity.

The being had thrown themselves backward, effectively yanking his arm through the adamantine bars all the way to his shoulder. They were likely attempting to snap his arm, or possibly rip it from its socket, their throat releasing some wretched, gurgling exclamation of grief all the while. One blast of pure and formless energy, once his shock had worn off, was enough to rip a hole through the other's midsection. Thrown back like a rag doll, innards tangling within stained, frantic hands as they made a vain attempt to scoop exposed and severed intestines back into their unrecognizable body. " _Vile beast_."

He wouldn't waste any more time on such meaningless memories. After all, he had come here for a reason. The Gates were on this level, that's why they'd come. Today, he had been ordered to touch the surface realm as some sort of trial. If he were to be quite honest, he was unsure of Lucifer's motive. No one could every truly be sure of His motive. However, their Lord had always shown some sort of favor towards him, if one could call it favor.

"Do you see them, Jellal?" The elder demon asked, gesturing towards the massive obsidian forged doors before them. They held a strange sense of majesty, carved with depictions of Lucifer's infamous fall as well as his blood-drenched reign.

"Yes." Came his short response, though he would express mentally that he was not blind, and that there was little chance of him missing something so incredibly large and gaudy.

They approached their destination with haste and he noted the thickening line of statue-esque guards on duty to protect the gates. Each saluted the elder as he passed, silently granting right of passage. He didn't deign to notice them. Each demon posted here equated to a member of Lucifer's cabinet, or so the legend went. The younger noted as they grew nearer that the doors did not open, and they would continue to remain closed even as they came to stand directly before them. A brow raised in question.

"These doors are welded shut by angelic power." The elder explained, offering no more information than that. After all, it _had_ been gracious of him to even give the underling that much. "Stand back, boy."

Jellal did as he was told, observing as the other used a single nail to create a slit in the very fabric of their realm. Gangly fingers sunk deep into the severed space, peeling it open with practiced ease to create a rift for the pair to pass through. His escort was the first to enter, his form unraveling within the disturbed space of energy, wishing for nothing more than to rid the sudden intrusion. He would follow without breath of complaint. The overwhelming raw power threatened to make the younger retch as the vortex began to decompose his body entirely. He watched as flesh peeled from bone, bathed in a permeating violet. Those bones began to disintegrate, beginning at his fingertips and traveling upward.

His body came into composition in an entirely different realm as if born anew. The air was shockingly thin in comparison to that of which he knew, causing his head to reel. The dizziness of oxygen not stained with the stench of blood and ash coupled with the extreme difference in pressure created a sense of complete unbalance. He did well to hide his disorient, observing the grace with which his escort had taken the shift in atmosphere. His experience level was evident. Eyes were quick to drink in the striking difference in the elder's physical form—the fleshly face of a human.

"Your resilience is rather impressive. I now understand why my Lord's expectations of you are so high." Short, clipped, dry, and yet that was the closest thing to approval he'd heard pass through the demon's lips thus far.

He nodded his thanks, silently expressing his wish to advance. While he put on a good show, he was in a state of complete sensory overload. Not to mention the fact that he was _cold_ , overwhelmingly cold. It took him harnessing every last drop of restraint not to shudder violently at the drastic change in temperature, while the other didn't appear to be phased at all. ' _What strength'_ , he noted mentally.

They ventured silently into the night, having spawned somewhere completely desolate of all life. His first visit was meant to be simply that—a visit. Conditions in the human realm were known to take a great toll on an inexperienced demon's body and mind. If he were to be sent on one of Lucifer's errands, it was crucial that he be familiarized with Earth's climate and terrain. Or so, that's what he'd been told. He was to be observed and briefed on the essentials of this land while experiencing it for himself.

The pair found themselves traveling through some foreign idea of civilization, shelters made from materials of the land. The humans, although he could smell them, appeared to be dormant within their dwellings. He marveled in the peculiarity of such quiescence. The concept of organized periods of rest was so incredibly flawed. The humans would really leave themselves in such a state of mass vulnerability? It was a marvel that their species was still in existence.

Eyes with such insatiable thirst are sure to drink in that which they never wished to see, he soon came to realize. The light of what he could only assume to be the infamously renowned moon guided their path. Its purity was nearly mocking, an almost perfect circle of ivory hanging far from his reach in the sky. Even so, it graciously allowed him the opportunity to catch a glimpse of a being in a pane of glass. He paused, watching the other mimic his movements without flaw. The elder watched in intrigue as Jellal took a step to assess the newcomer. Why hadn't he felt his presence?

Realization soon bloomed as he came to the conclusion that the being was none other than himself, his form had simply been altered. His advance continued, curiosity tightening his noose as he sought out the image of his Earthen appearance. One hand rose to his cheek to assess the flesh of his face. Lithe fingers comprised of newborn skin brushed over the markings ingrained around his eye, taking in the texture of the scar which dipped beneath the surface line of his face.

Constricting throat seized the gasp that threatened to crawl its way from his mouth, eyes of hazel widening as an all new sensation drenched him. A fire lit within his stomach, its flames coiling to capture the contents of his chest. Fire licked at the cage of his ribs, threatening to reduce Hell-stained bone to mere ash. Needles of ice were relentlessly being driven deep within every pore, and his disorient managed to turn his knees to dust.

 _Men in masks, many tasked with restraining him while another loomed overhead with a glowing iron. The grin on the man's face was seeping something vile, sharing the same quality as the laughter filling his ears. Muscles ablaze from his desperate flailing, though be it entirely in vain. His throat was raw from screaming, from demanding that he be released._

 _"This is what happens to little brats who forget their place."_

He could feel it. He could feel the iron searing into his flesh. He could feel the skin peeling away, as if it too was weeping and begging to escape. He could feel the blood rising from the wound, rolling down his face, into his eyes and his mouth as his demands for freedom shifted to shrill, horrified screams of insurmountable pain. He could feel his flesh shrieking as the iron was lifted and the surrounding air suddenly turned to a piercing cold.

His mouth was hanging open, one hand desperately clawing at the brand as if he wished to rid it from his face entirely while the other tangled within loose strands of indigo. A hand grasped him by the arm, forcing him up onto unsteady legs. When had he fallen to the ground? He forced the hand away, chest heaving as his vision returned from its haze.

"Where am I?" He demanded to know, his volume entirely too high for the sleeping city.

The elder stepped forward, grasping the younger's shoulders and jarring him once. "Jellal."

* * *

"Well? Are you going to proceed of your own accord or must I force you?"

Gaze shifted to accommodate the angel, finally lifting himself from his seat and wordlessly following the others down the aisle of the train. They set foot back onto solid ground, this train station looking even simpler than the last in that it was above ground and lacked overhead coverings. How he hoped that they would resume walking in the same pattern they had before, how he hoped that the rest of their journey would be silent.

"What—" Forceful exhale, desperate inhale. "Happened to me?"

The elder eyed him wearily, remaining silent for a long moment before offering, "I've seen this happen before, but never to this degree."

"What do you mean?" Voice hoarse, shoulders heaving as the feeling slowly returned to his hands and face.

"Allow me to explain something to you." An order, not a request. "There are two breeds of demon; those who spawn and carry out their existence in Hell, and those who were born human and damned their souls while on Earth. You are the latter. Your kind are few and far between, as one must accumulate a certain degree of power to become a demon upon their passing."

* * *

If he were truly human before, certainly their ways shouldn't puzzle him to this degree. As it stood, he had no way of disproving the elder's explanation, but it didn't exactly make definite sense to him either. Humans were so frail and weak, how could he possibly have derived from their kind? Were there truly living humans who could surmount to the power of a demon? His thirst for knowledge only seemed to grow, and while he'd been warned against searching for answers to his questions, he'd also been thrust directly into the heart of the trove.

Perhaps if he could access the humans' resources, he could piece together these jagged fragments of information. That was, if he lived to see the end of this day. His attention returned to the present, where he was walking listlessly into the angel's den. With a silent assessment of surroundings, he found himself heading directly towards an industrial building, once which appeared a bit gaudy compared to the simple apartment buildings and outside markets posted around the town.

' _Highly inconspicuous_ ', came his dry internal remark.

There was a strange insignia stitched into the banners which decorated the building, holding a semblance unbeknownst to him. "Is this your destination?" The question left him before he had much time to ponder whether or not the inquiry was in his best interest.

"Yes." The angel replied, which was a genuine shock. He'd received a straightforward answer for the first time during their plight.

He hummed in acknowledgement, finding no use in asking any further questions. No need to test his luck, after all. He wouldn't doubt that countless reinforcements lay behind those large iron doors. While he was confident in his competency, he also knew when to admit his disadvantage. Whatever lay beyond those doors, he was braced for it.

They came to face those doors, the angel lifting a hand to knock in some form of morse code. They stood for a long moment, waiting for someone to greet them at the entrance. Her wordless request for entry was answered as one of the doors slid inward. A young girl stood in the doorway, her petite stature almost human enough to be convincing.

"Erza, Natsu, Gray, you're back!" Her chipper greeting was rather contrary of the mood. "And you've brought cargo, I see."

How easily he'd been reduced to a mere object. How utterly disgraceful. The surrounding parties all exchanged their greetings before ushering him inside and slamming the door. The commotion brought all conversations to a halt, countless pairs of eyes trailing to fall on the undoubtedly overwhelming demonic element present. His darkness seemed to creep up the metal walls behind him and loom overhead as ghastly cloud. They all seemed to be about as surprised to see him as he was to find that he'd been lead into a coven for creatures of all status.

Of all of the things he'd been expecting, this was certainly at the bottom of his list. His gaze fell on the scarlet angel once more, narrowing as he attempted to decipher exactly what her motive was. Something had fallen completely out of alignment. Holy beings did not associate with other creatures, it was a disgrace to their God on every account he was aware of. With a single expression, she managed to return the others to their previous engagements, or at least deflect their gawking.

"Where is he?"

* * *

 **Next chapter will get into a couple of fun characters. Stay tuned.**


	4. NEPHILIM

**Sorry for the wait, I've been pretty busy with work and travel.**

 **Chapter warnings: Graphic depictions of death.**

* * *

"Where is he?"

"I'm not sure that he's returned yet, but you're more than welcome to check, Erza." The voice of the barmaid seemed to hold song-like qualities in comparison to the frigid tension which continued to circulate in the air.

Jellal's gaze shifted to the woman behind the bar, which happened to consume the better portion of the left wall, only giving way to a door in which Erza had already started in the direction of. Jellal could only assume that this "He" for who she demanded typically dwelled beyond that wall, not that he could say he was interested. "He" certainly could not be the angel's God—though he would admit that to be a rather interesting surprise should that be the case—and so he was led to assume that whoever "He" was would probably order for his torture in order to retrieve information. Rather boring, really.

Contrarily, his focus had been rather captivated by the essence of that barmaid, for there was something distinctly off about her presence. Perhaps it could be contributed to how insanely muddled this building seemed to be, considering it was riddled with creatures of all forms and ranks. Yet again, there was a degree of familiarity to it that created some type of draw.

As the leader of their makeshift brigade disappeared beyond the door to His domain, Gray suggested that they seat themselves at the bar to await her consensus. Jellal had no complaints, being that he had plans to investigate the peculiar magnetic energy that seemed to know exactly which of his strings to pluck in order to catch his interest one way or another. This would simply help that process along. There was one thing that he desired more than any tangible thing in existence, and that thing was knowledge. His very bones craved experience and learning.

"So we're taking orders from Erza now?" Natsu challenged, earning a sneer from the other as he started off in the direction of the bar.

"I'm sorry, did you want to die today?" Gray responded rather dryly, quickly tacking on, "Erza's already on edge and I don't plan on pushing her. This was her project anyway, it's not our place to do anything hasty."

Natsu bared his teeth, but seemed to be convinced enough by the other's response. "Alright buddy, time to wait for your judgement." He patted Jellal on the back, his head nodding in the direction of the bar.

He allotted the other a glare which expressed his thoughts on being touched. "I suppose." Jellal sighed, following the provided path in metaphorical ball and chain to take a seat. He chose to ignore the other's purposely ironic use of the familiar term in favor of enjoying some form of silence. Arguing with Natsu was a pointless way to consume time. He would rather speak to the captives of the first circle.

"Natsu, Gray, welcome home. Can I get you anything?" The abnormally cheerful creature met them with a warm smile, the point of which completely lost on the dark entity.

Even so, he could not contain his intrigue. A quick analysis of her features was enough to tell him that they'd never met, but he couldn't seem to shake the familiarity of her presence. Curious was the captive, his eyes burning into her flesh as he dared attempt to capture a read on her.

"No, thanks." The daemon's voice had yet to sound so gentle, offering the woman the same politeness that she had greeted him with.

"I'll pass." Natsu agreed, his tone also absent of confrontation for once. Their sense of comradery seemed quite strange to he who could not recall a single tender word shared between that of his peers.

"And you, sir? Can I help you with something?" She made it obvious enough that his staring didn't go unnoticed, and he could only bring himself to shake his head in response. It was too late, however, and she'd already picked up on his all too evident captivation. "I'm sorry, have I confused you somehow?"

Damn his overactive facial expressions. "No, my apologies. I suppose you just looked familiar." Though that wasn't it. She didn't appear to be physically familiar at all, so what exactly was this sensation?

"My, I'm sorry but I hardly find that to be believable." She laughed, melodic and honey-dripping. Again, she'd picked up on his uncertainty. He couldn't help but notice how oddly compassionate and understanding she already appeared to be, and for her to treat him the same as her allies was entirely outlandish. Her kindness was reminiscent of the humans he had purchased rags and food from, the ones who were cordial in exchange for jewel. "Though come to think of it, there is someone you may know."

"And who might that be?" His inquiry was a bit drier than he'd anticipated, but he couldn't help but feel that he was being made a fool of with the way she would laugh so eagerly at his testimony, especially with how suspiciously sweet she was.

"I believe his name is Azazel." Her offering was much more valuable than he'd anticipated. Gray shifted uncomfortably at his side, to which the woman turned her head to offer him a reassuring wink. His tension did not release, eyes expressing that she was crossing a line in giving out such valuable information so readily.

Jellal immediately shifted to become defensive, eyes narrowing dangerously as he hissed, "Azazel?"

He noticed Gray's hands poising at the ready out of the corner of his eye, and the way Natsu seemed to perk up upon noticing the impending collision. He was unconcerned with the pair, refocusing his attention entirely on the creature before him. She couldn't possibly be possessed.

"There's no need to worry." The woman merely laughed, placing a hand over her heart as if to say that he lived within her. Her words seemed to communicate on a deeper level, resonating with their small group as a whole. "He's been sealed away for some time now."

The demon Azazel, one of the contestants for a seat within Lucifer' cabinet, had gone missing some time ago. He had tasked himself with the reckless objective of locating the spawn of an angel and a human, beings which he couldn't be sure even existed for the sheer blasphemy of such relations between angels and humans, in order to harness the power of an angel. Even among demons, he was perceived as mad. Such frivolous views of yielding both demonic and angelic power on any scale were laughable. It was thought that he had simply been slain by an angel in pursuit of his objective.

He remembered his own conversations with the other, who was seen as an ally for hundreds of years, and how he couldn't help but find the other to be humorous in his aspirations. He seemed nothing short of a dreamer, but now that Jellal was confronted with this woman whose wavelength was a telling medley of angelic and demonic power battling for superiority, he found himself near about convinced. How utterly _intriguing_.

"Fascinating." But a whisper, but audible to all parties present. She meant to tell him that Azazel was not only living, but was trapped within her body without means of escape? If such happened to be the case, that would almost definitely mean... "—Nephilim."

"Mira, are you sure it's such a good idea to be making friends with this guy?" Gray interjected finally, unable to contain his concern any longer. Sure, Gray found him to be rather impressive and interesting enough at his base, but he was still a risk of high caliber.

"Why, because he's a demon?" The daemon flinched at the slightest hint of bitterness in her voice, though be it coated in marmalade the same as her previous sentences.

Gray sighed, knowing he'd upset her even though it wasn't his intention. With the way everyone in their coalition spoke of demons, it had become quite the sore spot for the woman who was, by all technicality, partially demonic. "That's not it, we just don't know anything about him. Erza seems pretty certain he's not someone we need to be heavily involved with."

"You do realize I am still present?" They had a nasty habit of treating him like an inanimate object.

"With all due respect, Erza is a bit biased. You know how she reacted to me at first." Mirajane sighed, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, we're being rude."

Jellal simply shook his head in dismissal. He hated to admit that of the group he'd met so far, he was the fondest of this woman. To think that he would harbor anything but negativity for the lot of them was beyond him, but she was the first to engage with him so neutrally.

"I don't care if he's a demon or an angel," Natsu chimed in, "but if he's half as powerful as everyone says, I want to fight him!"

Gray groaned. "Would you give it a rest, Natsu?"

"Get off my case, you prick."

The door through which the angel had disappeared before opened, causing the daemon and dracon to snap their mouths shut. Jellal rested his chin within a palm out of boredom, long since tired of their theatrics. The one dubbed 'Mira' returned to drying freshly washed glasses. Idle thoughts roamed to the nature of his punishment for simply being born. He couldn't help but find this to be rather discriminatory being that he hadn't actually done anything wrong.

Erza paced over to their current resting place, appearing more calm than she had since he met her. Perhaps the presence of allies put her at ease. In any case, he wouldn't find any reason to complain about the absence of the insufferable harpy's barking.

"Come." She commanded, to which he responded by languidly pushing himself to his full height, eyes returning to him as soon as his feet hit the floor.

Natsu and Gray moved to follow, progress halted with a raise of the angel's hand. "That won't be necessary."

With a nod of her head in the direction of the door, Jellal followed her implications to proceed in that direction. She trailed not far behind, effectively staying on his heels. Beyond the door, the hall was rather narrow, forged entirely of reinforced steel. "This way." Her hand pointed in the direction of the hall which broke off to continue right, met with another door. He opened it, leading himself into a makeshift prison of sorts. There were a few empty cells, and from the looks of it, none of them had been used in quite some time.

"This area will be yours." Erza gestured to the first cell to his left, to which he simply nodded. At this point, he welcomed the chance to have some solitude. He wanted nothing more than to be left alone. Surely he had been expecting some form of containment, but this was nothing compared to the first circle's methods. " _He_ is not here, so I would advise against getting comfortable."

"Now, what fun would it be if I was able to enjoy myself for a moment?" He quipped, dripping with sarcasm.

After situating him within the barred cell, which was quite laughable on the account that he could escape at any point if he truly wished to, she left without another word.

* * *

Hours passed without interruption, free to think without fear of some excitable being shattering his reverie. The steel bench, which he supposed was intended to double as a bed, was rather uncomfortable against this fleshly body. Parading as a human was equally convenient and inconvenient.

It would seem that the iron bars meant to ensure his imprisonment were quite fascinating, being that he had been staring at them for some time now. The overbearing sense of deja vu had led him to divulge into the vault of the past thousand years' memories. Try as he might, he came up empty handed. Hazel trailed down to the skin dipped fingers resting motionless against a clothed thigh, tracing the concealed movements of muscle and bone beneath thin layers of human composition as he grasped the cloth in thought.

Lifting a hand, he turned it in examination. The sight was strangely natural, as if this appearance was the one he'd always had rather than the thick, blackened skin that was vaguely reminiscent of that of a boar's hide. A small amount of energy coursed through his hands and to the ends of his finger tips, enveloping each individual digit with a pale glow. Pale. His energy in its rawest form had always been so pale, radiating a degree of beauty so uncharacteristically pure.

With little effort, he began to form a ball of light within the flat of his palm. Hickory wells drank in the sight of energy flowing from his hand to contribute in the assembly of the small, thoughtless orb. Its center whispered faintly of lavender. He dispelled the energy, fingers coiling to form a fist which extended in the direction of the iron bars holding him prisoner.

 _Just as soon as the thought filled his mind, just as soon as he accepted himself as exactly that, a prisoner, the visage melted away. Breath escaped the hold of his lips as though he'd been struck in the stomach, his eyes widening as reality blurred and thoughts consumed the present setting. The hand previously used to model fell limp, unable to remain in its previous position any longer._

 _The stench of death was heavy within the air, rotting flesh and long soiled garments entangling to form a horrid concoction. Fresh tears mingled with the dried sweat and grime of the fingers held just below the eye in order to prevent saline substance from reaching the still fresh wound. He sat facing away from the other body in the room, the one which was causing the nauseating odor to permeate._

 _His cellmate had been killed days earlier by the man in masks and they hadn't come back to collect the body since. He hadn't eaten in days, simply left with the rotting body which would soon come to decompose on the floor. He couldn't bear to look, the sight of the fallen soldier still bringing him to panic. Dried out eyes were open, staring lifelessly into the nothingness that came about when that spear had been driven through his chest. The skin was faintly blue, glistening with what appeared to be oil._

 _He heard the footsteps, glancing up to the iron bars which assured his imprisonment. He pushed himself closer to the wall, pulling his knees closer as he frantically wiped the tears from his face. His chest felt dangerously close to collapsing, stomach turning in response to the fresh wave of anxiety which appeared to be rising above his head in attempts to drown him._

 _The men in masks came, one of them making remarks about the smell hanging thickly in the air. They stopped just outside his cell, barking an order for him to stand. He did so timidly, stretching out sore knees for the first time in quite some time. He stood to his full height, which wasn't much considering he was just a boy._

 _"Come on out, Prisoner 870."_

He gasped, one hand having somehow made its way up to his face to cover his mouth, the other embedding nails into the flesh of his arm. His breathing was haggard, details of the memory still circulating within his mind as he fought violently to regain his composure. The flame within the confines of his chest raged on as he peeled calloused hand away from dry mouth. Deep breaths helped to eliminate his gasps.

The tingling in his face and hands soon came to dissipate with regained control of his lungs, his head falling against the wall his back was propped against. _"I've never seen such a violent reaction."_

His laughter was dry and thoughtless, arms hanging limply at his sides.

"— _Jellal_?"

* * *

 **Before anyone asks: yes, this is a jerza fic. No, there will not be romance between Jellal and Mirajane, but she is important to the story. I'm not really happy with this chapter but if I keep rewriting it, it won't ever get published. Thank you for being patient with me.**


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